My inner demons have looked me in the eyes for the last time yesterday.
They screamed, clawed the floor for help.
They pointed to my head, my heart and my stomach as they are all golden like they once were.
I named them all after bad habits and bad addictions.
Their eyes are red and their skin is black. They never spoke, but one of them told me in a soft voice, 'I hope it all works out for you.'
Thank you, guilt. I hope so, too.

Your screams stay silent, never heard,
Their thoughts are violent and absurd,
Your demons vicious, spitting venom
They whisper words of sick intentions
'Do not cry' they laugh with spite
'It could be time to say goodnight'
The darkness fills, you shut your eyes
And choke out one final goodbye

I remember the innocence of my childhood
happiness.

It was before bracelets were used
for more than just fashion…
before they were used to hide jagged cuts

The days when I only cried for my
scraped skin.

Now I cry for heartbreak and the loss
of more than just happiness.

The days where pills were only taken
to make “the hurt go away”.

Now they’re taken to make me go away.

The days where Root Beer was the only
“alcohol” I drank.

Now I drink shots of hopelessness
in small glasses of heartbreak

The days where the only kisses I asked for
were before I drifted off to sleep.

Now I beg for kisses in midnight hours
where the only love I receive is the kind
where the sheets are terrorized.

The days where candied cigarettes were my
way of being an adult.

Now cigarettes are the way of keeping
me sane.

“Look, mommy, look. I’ve grew
an inch!”

Now I’m growing without you.

Gone are the days where I felt your kisses
planted upon wet cheeks,
The days where I beg for your love, mommy.

I beg for love in the form of moaning,
bed springs creaking;
where sweat caked into my pores.

The days where my life meant something to
someone.

If I died now, who would cry for me?

The days where happiness grew on trees,
and you showed me how to grasp them with
dirt-covered palms.

Look, mommy. I’ve grew an inch.

An inch closer to the bullet
awaiting in it’s home.

-DDF

they told me to chase my dreams
but what if
i can't sleep?

I wail and scream and cry
my fists pounding against His chest
in rhythm with the nails in His hands
“Why. Why. I don’t understand”

My heart is breaking
My skin is sweating
My body is shaking
My fists are pounding

I am broken
I am angry



I feel Him start to move.
I see His hand reach out
and I prepare to be slapped.

But He moves some hair
that had fallen in my eyes
behind my ear.

He wraps His arms tightly around me.
Never letting go.

My pounding slows.
My shaking fades.

And I look up in shock
as I feel a teardrop on my nose.
I see water pouring from His eyes
as He weeps over my pain.




*My heart begins to mend.

It's easy to dwell
On the dark side of life
Focus on the pain
But it isn't healthy
Or so I'm told
So maybe
Think about sloths
They're pretty funny
And if that doesn't work
I don't know
Try reading a book
Something not written
By Edgar Allan Poe.

One step closer, to the edge of insanity, towards the uncertainy, I am walking away from the mediocrity and towards who I want to be.
I am taking each breath, in and out slowly, this air is full of people's dreams that never made it, full of passion that has been sedated and the hopes that have become outdated.
See the children who dreamt of the wildest things ended up growing up and with responsibility on one shoulder and pressure on the other and so the life they discover, is not full of the magical dreams they had once yearned for, their younger escapades now unravel and they forget the life that they had once dreamed of, their hopes now expired and cast away.
And so I seek to escape this mundane maze, this game that life seems to have created, I want to crawl through the loophole.